


Presenting Dean Winchester

by EmiliaOagi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiliaOagi/pseuds/EmiliaOagi
Summary: Dean finally start presenting his secondary gender, and Castiel has an unexpected reaction to Dean's new scent.A somewhat different take on a/b/o, set in a canon-divergent universe somewhere around season 8/9





	Presenting Dean Winchester

Dean wakes up that morning feeling warm. He groans and goes to kick off the single sheet he went to bed with, only to find that apparently he not only got rid of the sheet last night, but he had somehow completely undressed himself as well. Dean sighs, dons his robe, and heads to the showers to cool off. It helps, a little.  
  
At breakfast, he comments, "It's kind of warm in here," to Sam who gives him a surprised side eye.  
  
"Feels fine to me."  
  
"Huh," say Dean and goes back to his bacon.  
  
Late morning finds Dean sitting across the table from Sam, both looking for cases on their respective laptops. Dean pulls at his shirt, still too warm. He's also extremely hungry.  
  
With a quick stretch, he shuts his laptop. "I'm starving. You want anything?"  
  
Sam stares at him. "Are you okay?"  
  
"What? I'm fine." Dean doesn't like the way Sam is looking at him. "I'm fine, Sammy, really. Just hungry."  
  
Sam's eyebrows raise, but he shakes his head. "Just some water," he says, and turns back to his laptop.  
  
Dean heads off to the kitchen to get Sam's water and himself a sandwich. Or two. God, he’s starving. When he gets back to library, he sets down his sandwiches and hands Sam his water.  
  
Sam grabs Dean's wrist instead and fricking sniffs him. Dean jerks back immediately. The water in the glass sloshes and falls to the floor.  
  
"What the hell Sam?"  
  
Sam shrugs. "Just testing a theory. How long have you been feeling warm?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Sam sighs. “You've been complaining all day about being warm. And apparently you're twice as hungry as usual."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
Sam hesitates. "I think you're presenting."  
  
Dean stares at him.  
  
"As an omega," Sam adds, and looks apologetic.  
  
"What the-" Dean reels. He's been null his entire life, part of the rare 10% of people who don't present a secondary gender. Dean's accepted that, been fine with that. Being null means that everyone is fair game- alphas, omegas, betas. No one gets up in arms about a null designation, and there's no stupid drama over scent patterns. Dean has been null for his full thirty five years. He can't be presenting now.  
  
"That's bullshit," he finally says.  
  
Sam shrugs and turns his laptop to face Dean. "It's been known to happen. And it explains your symptoms. Your scent has changed too."  
  
Dean looks at Ssm, aghast. "No. Wait, how can you even tell that?"  
  
Sam rolls his eyes. "Even betas have a sense of smell, and I've lived with you for most of my life. It's be weird if I didn't know your scent, and trust me, it's changed. And it's way stronger than it should be for someone who is null."  
  
Dean swears. Then he grabs the laptop and plops down to look at the article on the screen. It confirms what Sam has told him. It's entirely possible for null-designated people to present far later in life, it’s just rare. Like less than 5% of all null-designation ever present. Dean is horrified at the mere possibility. He looks up at Sam, who is clearly trying to hide a pitying look.  
  
"It gets worse," Sam says, takes the laptop and clicks to another page. "Your symptoms? It means that you're, ah, possibly experiencing heat." Sam's cheeks are red and he looks away as he says it.  
  
"Oh, that's just fucking fantastic," Dean mutters, reading the article with increasing horror. This cannot be happening to him.  
  
"How is this even possible?" He finally asks. "I thought all our family was betas. Except Dad of course."  
  
"And Samuel," Sam adds. He shrugs. "Maybe there's a recessed omega gene in there somewhere. It's hard to tell without a full family history."  
  
"That's great. Fan-freaking-tastic."  Dean smooths his hands over his face, quietly freaking out.  
  
Finally he stands up and mutters. "I'll be in my room if you need me. And you’d better _not_ need me."  
  
~  
  
Castiel arrives at the bunker late that afternoon. He enters the library, finding Sam hunched over his laptop.  
  
"Hello, Sam," he says.  
  
"Oh, hey Cas. You find anything on Crowley?"  
  
"No. There's no trace." Castiel looks around the room. "Where's Dean?"  
  
"In his room." Sam glances at the angel. "He, uh, he's going through something right now."  
  
Castiel gives him a blank look. "Going through what?"  
  
Sam runs a hand through his hair. "You know how humans have secondary genders?"  
  
Castiel nods. "I'm aware. You are classed as a beta and Dean is classed as null."  
  
"Yeah, about that. He may not have presented before but it's possible that..." Sam falters, clearly uncomfortable. He glances at the angel again. "You know what? Why don't you go talk to him instead. He's in his room."  
  
Castiel nods, somewhat confused, and heads into the hallway. 

Castiel frowns as he walks into Dean's bedroom, sniffing the air. "What is that?" He asks and looks at Dean who is pacing around the room. 

"It's nothing okay? Nothing." Dean says, rubbing his neck and pulling at his collar.

 Castiel tilts his head, his frown deeping. "No, it's not nothing... you... smell different." 

Dean huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, thanks for that," he mutters and looks at Cas. "What? Angels can scent people too now? Ridiculous." Dean sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Castiel walks in a bit more. "I've always been able to scent people.” He sniffs again. Something about the scent is...enticing. “Sam said you hadn't... Presented yet." Castiel tries to ignore the scent, turning his attention to Dean. He's concerned for the hunter, who is clearly struggling with this sudden change. 

Dean sighs, shaking his head. "Nope. Or at least, not till now. It's a fucking pain in the ass.” 

“Is there anyway I can help?” It’s suddenly more important than ever to help Dean, to take care of him. 

“No. Leave it Cas, just...get out, okay?” Dean pulls at his shirt again, before dropping his head into his hands. “Stupid, stupid genes. Stupid Sam getting to be a stupid beta…” 

Castiel can't seem to move from his spot. His whole body is tingling pleasantly, and he feels warm, and possessive. A soft growl escapes from his throat, surprising him, but he's too focused on the hunter in front of him to take much notice of it. 

Dean notices and looks up. “Jesus, Cas. You can't help with this. Just leave me alone, okay?” 

Castiel means to move, means to leave as asked but the thought suddenly feels so wrong. Another growl escapes his throat as does the word, “No.” 

Dean’s head shoots up and he stares wide-eyed at Castiel. 

Castiel is frozen, as he rapidly tries to understand what’s happening. He involuntarily breathes in again, that scent like gunmetal and leather, burnt apples and wood smoke. A smell that is so very, very, “Dean.” Castiel stares at the hunter as he realizes what’s happening. This can’t, shouldn’t be possible. 

“Cas? Are you okay?” Dean rises, sniffs and his mouth drops open, because there is another scent mixing with his own now. It’s the scent of arousal. “Alpha,” Dean whispers. His eyes flicker downward involuntarily and, oh god, there is definitely a bulge there. He looks up guilty and his eyes catch in Cas’s. They stare at each other for a long moment. 

Of course this would happen, Dean thinks wildly. Start presenting at thirty-fucking-five and it turns out that he has a whole nother set of organs he wasn’t aware of because it turns out that he’s a fucking omega and just to make things even worse, his new scent is somehow affecting a goddamned angel. 

Dean breathes slowly in to try and get himself back together and realizes too late how bad that idea is as he scents Cas again. For the first time ever, Dean suddenly feels _wet_ . Great, now he’s producing fucking _slick_ . It feels so very wrong. Even more so because...well, this is _Cas_. “Son of a bitch,” he says out loud. 

Castiel nods, seemingly frozen in place, but he’s breathing hard and his eyes track Dean as the hunter starts to pace again. Dean stops and looks at Cas with sudden suspicion. “The hell is happening here? How can you even...even be…?” He gestures at Cas’s body. “Jimmy was a goddamn beta, wasn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” says Cas, and Dean can hear the effort it’s taking Cas to say those three simple words. The angel sounds almost helpless. “Perhaps when my father remade me…” Cas looks away, and seems to be fighting himself. He lets out a noise between a growl and a whine. “I... _Dean._ ”

“Cas.” Dean doesn’t mean to say it. But he’s getting hotter and hotter and Cas looks so good and Dean hates how this day is going. He stops just in front of the angel, barely aware that now _he’s_ the one breaking the boundaries of personal space.

Not for the first time, Dean thinks about kissing Cas.

For the first time ever, Dean decides to actually do something about it.

“Cas,” Dean says, low and quiet. “Shut the door?”

Cas’s hand twitches and the door slams shut behind him. The angel’s eyes search the hunter’s face, and there’s something else other than lust and confusion in them. Something like hope. Dean leans forward and hesitantly kisses Cas, lips barely brushing.

Cas lets out a gasp and a growl and holy shit those sounds do _something_ to Dean. He lets out a soft whine -and since when does Dean Winchester _whine?_ \- as Cas's mouth presses against his, and they spend the next few moments just making out. Cas's tongue slips into Dean's mouth and- _holy hell_ , where did the angel learn to do _that_ with his tongue?

Cas pulls away at last, breathing hard. He stares into Dean's eyes in shock and all Dean can think is, _I totally understand what Meg was talking about now. I don't think I've ever felt so clean._

“Dean,” Castiel sounds unsure, but he doesn't release the hunter. “Is this...okay?” the words come out hesitantly, like the angel isn't sure what the right ones are. “Do you really want this? It isn't just your...your heat affecting you?”

Dean laughs. “Buddy, this is more than okay.” He kisses Cas softly. “I've thought about doing this a lot,” he says softly, not sure that Cas can hear him, but of course he can. _Kiss_. “I guess I just needed the right reasons.” Another kiss, longer this time.

Cas pulls back once more, moving to kiss Dean just below the ear. “I love you, Dean Winchester,” the angel says, kissing his way down the hunter's throat and back up.

Dean is frozen in the angel's grasp. _I love you_ . How easily Cas says it, as if he's said it a million times before. As if those three words don't change _everything_ about how Dean sees their relationship.

He tries to focus instead on the physical sensations instead. Soft, slightly chapped lips on his neck, goosebumps and tingles running through him with each one. The muscular thigh, pressed against his, the hard line of the the angel's cock against his hip, his own hardness against the angel's. The feel of teeth pressing against his neck, hands sliding over his back. The sound of Cas breathing in.

“Did you just...smell me?”

Cas nuzzles his neck and Dean can feel the faint smile as Cas answers, “You smell amazing, Dean. You always did, most of the time anyway, but now…” Cas breathes in again, and Dean can't reign in the snort of laughter that follows. “Now you smell exquisite.”

Dean laughs this time for real. “Okay there, Hannibal, slow down.”

Cas pulls back with a frown. “You know I don't understand your references.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should watch a movie sometime.” Dean pauses. “Although maybe not that one.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment, his hands still moving. “Dean. I want…” the angel pauses. He growls softly and kisses Dean hard. Dean presses back into the kiss and it's like a fight between their mouths, a sparring match where the goal is to claim as much territory as possible.

Cas's hands slip downward and Dean gasps as the angel slides his hands under his clothes, under the elastic of his boxers to take hold of Dean's cock.

Dean buries his face in the angel's shoulder gasping and he breathes in hard, and tastes Cas's scent. It's not just arousal he's scenting, it's ozone and heather, honey and the smell of dust after rain. There's a word for that, he thinks fuzzily, but the feeling of the angel's hand stroking his cock is too distracting. Dean breathes in the angel's scent once more, moans, “Cas,” and kisses the angel's neck as his own hand finds its own way into Cas's pants.

Cas gasps in shock when Dean touches him, pulling just far enough back to look into Dean's eyes, his mouth half opened and Dean immediately yanks the angel's head forward with his free hand mashing their lips together as they both stroke each other, Dean teaching Cas how to properly handle a cock, sliding his thumb over the uncovered slit, pleased to find that Jimmy had apparently been a _very_ good midwestern boy.

Dean loves the sounds that Cas is making, the way that each pull of Dean's hand up and down his shaft pulls little growls and whines from the angel’s throat. How Cas is copying him, and oh does that feel good, and they are almost grinding against each other now, the effort of leaving enough room between them for their hands to move becoming too much to bear.

Cas comes first, crying Dean's name and  barely managing to stand, some of his weight falling rest on Dean as the angel leans on his shoulders, spent. Dean has to finish himself off, but he doesn't really mind because, holy hell, _Cas_. He comes with the angel's name on his lips, and leans into the angel in his own post-orgasmic haze.

In that afterglow, he remembers the word. “Petrichor,” he says out loud.

“What?” Cas mutters into his shoulder. Oh God, Dean thinks biting back a laugh. He literally has an angel on his shoulder right now. It's hilarious but he doesn't want to startle Cas away.

“Petrichor. The smell of dust after rain. It's part of your scent.”

Cas pulls away slightly, taking his weight off Dean's shoulders, and holds the hunter tight, arms wrapped around him nearly tight enough to hurt, but not quite. Dean settles into them, his own going tight.

“Was that...was that acceptable? What I did?” Cas's voice is low and his breath is warm in Dean's ear.

“Oh yes,” Dean says, and he is smiling, eyes closed. “That was...definitely acceptable.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to  Jemariel  for helping me with the writing of this and being an awesome beta!


End file.
